Unintended
by kacysbastian
Summary: Kurt Hummel is starting over. While he can handle his new NYADA classes and the new atmosphere of the Big Apple, there's one aspect of the city life he can't quite handle yet - boys. When an unexpected one night stand leaves Kurt heartbroken, a new love begins to pick up the pieces, until Kurt realizes that both of his conquests are unfortunately connected.
1. Chapter 1

**Title: Unintended**

**Summary: Kurt Hummel is starting over. Out of high school and out of Lima, he's entering the biggest adventure of his life in NYC alongside his two best friends, Rachel Berry and Santana Lopez. However, while he can handle his new NYADA classes and the new atmosphere of the Big Apple, there's one aspect of the city life he can't quite handle yet - boys. When an unexpected one night stand leaves Kurt heartbroken, a new love begins to pick up the pieces, until Kurt realizes that both of his conquests are unfortunately connected.**

**Authors Note:**  
Hi friends! Kelly and Macy here. We may or may not be writing a thing who's proud? Consider this fic our outlet in which we express our too often masked kurtbastian emotions. This is, however, our first go at this, so please be patient and bear with us as we put this lovely story together. Also, if anyone's wondering, the title of this story comes from the song "Unintended" by Muse.

This first chapter mainly sets the scene with what Kurt, Rachel, and Santana are doing, how Kurt feels about himself, etc. Sebastian will appear in the second chapter, so don't flake on us yet!

Another note of caution: If you're coming here to see Blaine hate, you've come to the wrong fic. Blaine plays a very positive and essential character in this story.

Now that you've pretended to read this, we hope you enjoy it! xo

-Kelly & Macy

* * *

**CHAPTER ONE**

"Ha! That was my last box!" Kurt bragged as he pulled the last of his scarves out of the box labeled 'Kurt's Clothes Do NOT Touch'.

"No fucking way, Hummel," Santana replied from her room across the hall. "Berry and I are barely halfway through!"

"Would you two just shut the hell up and help me with the kitchen?" Kurt shouted a little too loudly as he exasperatedly rolled his eyes at his two new roommates, who he still couldn't believe he was living with at this point.

Kurt took a deep breath, successfully tuning out his two roommates bickering a room away, and focused his eyes on his new breathtaking view. It was like they could see every part of the city, that at least covered Union Square and maybe bits and pieces of Fashion District on 7th avenue if you really squinted your eyes hard enough. It was safe to say that this front window would be his favorite part of his sparkly, new, New York City apartment.

Okay, it wasn't sparkly, but to Rachel Berry, Kurt Hummel, and Santana Lopez, it would be a new beginning; a chance to finally see the world outside of the conservative goggles of suburban Lima, Ohio. They finally had made it big, and maybe the three best friends would appreciate their soon-to-be New York City lifestyle if Rachel would just stop crying.

"I still can't believe we're living and walking on the same streets that Ms. Barbra Streisand walked on when she was our age!" Rachel screeched to Kurt, who responded to her by shaking her with the similar enthusiasm. "Imagine how optimistic she must have been, I'm sure she wants us to do the same -"

"Ahem!" Santana shouted at them from across the room. She was just trying to hang up a poster of Paula Abdul in the dining room. Kurt seemed to dig his mind out of Rachel's most coveted fantasies, and threw the Latina the tape with an affectionate eye roll.

"Just give yourself a few weeks here, Santana, and you'll be just as excited as we are," Kurt said encouragingly. "I'm sure you'll be the hottest bitch on the top of any NYU Pyramid, Sandbags," the blue-eyed boy said as he began to direct his attention to one of the overflowing kitchen boxes.

And with a unified laugh as the McKinley grads reminisced over the memory, the boxes seemed to unpack themselves. Their apartment may not be too spacious, but it was certainly the ideal location. Only a few blocks from Union Square and minutes from both the NYU and NYADA campuses. The decision to be brave and move straight into an apartment rather than have a "freshman dorm experience" seemed to be going well so far at least.

The clock read 10:48 a.m, and the sweat was evident on Kurt's face as he tried to finish the last touches on the living room wall. He once thought painting would be a fun, activity, or as Rachel had once put it, "a quick stimulation for our artistic minds prior to delving into our future stardom", but instead it just really fucking sucked.

Kurt glanced over at Rachel, who was painting the wall outlining the one bathroom that the three of them would now share in their new glamorous shoebox. She was _not_ hanging gold stars. He noticed Santana eyeing her the same way he was.

_Here we go, _he thought to himself.

"Oh hell no," Santana said prominently, dashing over to Rachel's side, near-snatching the oversized gold star decorations out of her hands.

"What is your problem!?" Rachel shouted, dramatically stamping her foot.

"My _problem_," Santana emphasized as she got closer to the girl's face, "is that you can't hang these flamingly gay stars in our already flamingly gay apartment! Who are we? Will and Grace with another random fucking Mexican?!"

Kurt couldn't stop himself from muffling his laughter in his corner. She was right, after all.

Rachel feigned being hurt for a minute, before a devilishly sweet look formed in her brown eyes.

"You're right, Santana, the color of this wall unfortunately clashes with my gold stars," Rachel said teasingly, swiping her paintbrush into the can below. "But …" she trailed off slowly, raising up the brush, which was now covered in paint, to eye-level between herself and Santana. "It would look fabulous with the outfit you're wearing."

"I swear on all of your ugly as fuck sweaters, Berry. If you bring that paint brush any closer to me, there will be hell to pay," Santana said in a very serious tone, giving Rachel a look that could definitely slaughter her in half.

"Oops," Rachel exhaled dramatically swinging her hand forward and splattering the face, chest, and upper torso of her roommate in bright, sticky paint.

"Holy. Shit." Kurt whispered to himself as he witnessed what his roommates were doing in their new bathroom.

"Berry. I. Am. Going. To. Kill. You." Santana aggressively swiped the paint brush from the bathroom counter, covered it in paint, and painted a long streak straight down Rachel's face and chest.

Kurt ran into the bathroom unable to hold back and grabbed the paint roller out of the shower and covered it in paint, while being splattered by all the paint now being thrown back and forth between his roommates. He rolled the roller up Santana's back which in return earned him a long swipe of paint up his side from Santana and a light smack on his ass from Rachel. As if the ass smacking was the motion of warfare, the three went at it with as many brushes and rollers as their hands would allow. No longer holding back at all, the colors were being flung every which way, splattering the walls of the new and once clean small bathroom, drenching the three roommates.

"I hate you both so much for this!" Kurt screamed through his laughs.

"Berry started it!" Santana yelled back adding another coat of paint to his back.

Just as the giggles started to die down, there was a loud, obnoxious knock at the door. Both Kurt and Santana looked at Rachel, the culprit of the paint fight, motioning for her to answer the door.

Completely and embarrassingly covered in paint, Rachel opened the door to find a preppy girl with thick-rimmed glasses, standing at their doorstep carrying a large notepad, and a handful of bright, colorful flyers. The smile on her face quickly evaporated as she took in what she was walking into. God, it must have looked so kinky.

"I'm sorry, was I interrupting something..?" The confused girl said, not even giving the brunette or her roommates any time to answer. "Anyway, Welcome to NYADA! I'm Tess, and we on the welcoming committee here recognize that the off-campus students need to be aware of what's going on, so I took upon the liberty of reminding you about the Welcome Orientation Fair that starts in an hour -"

"FUCK! Thank you, bye!" Rachel shouted as she slammed the door in the girl's face. "We have to make it to that fair, Kurt. Doesn't NYU have one too, Santana?" Rachel asked the Latina, currently pretending to lick the paint off of Kurt's stomach.

The three of them stood there in an awkward silence for a moment.

"I call the shower first!" Kurt said, running to the bathroom throwing his shirt off in the process.

This was going to be a good year.

* * *

For as big of a deal the NYADA admissions board made about being a "highly selective school", there sure seemed to be a lot of students flocking around the campus, more so than either Rachel or Kurt expected.

"Just because they look like us, and act like us, doesn't mean they're better than us," Rachel whispered in Kurt's ear as she squeezed his hand, the two of them smiling at the memory.

Kurt closed his eyes for a minute, and just for a brief flash of time, he saw his future. He saw his name and his profile framed in lights, hanging high in Times Square for all to see, the star of the most up-and-coming Broadway show around. He saw his dressing room backstage, the Tony awards that would line his shelves -

"Kurt? Earth to Kurt?" Rachel said annoyingly as she shook him out of his daydreams. When he opened his eyes again, despite the disappointment, he was still just as mesmerized. Everything was so different.

The Union Building was filled with students, registering and collecting their ID's, and then proceeded outward to the front lawn, where hundreds of booths and stands were just begging to be checked out. A huge and pleasantly distracting "WELCOME TO NYADA" sign, built and practically designed the same as the Broadway signs Kurt had always grown to love so dearly, hung on the front of the building, as if giving the students a glimpse into their futures.

All Kurt had to do was survive the next four years, and with his two best friends (and now roommates) alongside him, what could possibly go wrong?

After collecting their ID's and comparing which one of theirs would make a better headshot, Rachel and Kurt, hand and hand, made their way through the lines. Every musical theatre club possible was present from "The Roxy Hart Fan Club", to "Future Mormons of America", but there was only one table Kurt was interested in nearly sprinting toward.

"Rachel!" he hissed as he tried to gain her attention away from a Barbra table. "One word: Phantom."

And with that, Rachel and Kurt were squealing and skipping over to the large section of tables all topped with _Phantom of the Opera _posters, costumes, and props. Rachel practically shoved everyone else out of the way with one quick tug, and she and Kurt were face to face with the open-call sign up sheet.

"NYADA's fall production _would_ be Phantom, just for us! We are the best Christine and Phantom ever we are going to blow the house down -"

"Excuse me, did you really think you could butt in front of us like that?" a handsome stranger cut Rachel off, before nearly stepping backward in order to take in slender, gorgeous, and round-in-all-the-right-places Kurt Hummel. "I apologize, beautiful, I would let you place that thing anywhere as long as it's in front of me," the boy said, not so subtly giving Kurt the once-over, before winking and strolling away.

Rachel's mouth was agape at this point before she started laughing. "Oh my God, Kurt… why didn't you talk to him!?", she shook the beautiful boy, who was too busy trying to hastily sign his name on the sheet with a look of undisputed panic and humiliation flooding his blue eyes. Rachel quickly signed her name before chasing after Kurt, who was already running away.

"Maybe because I only converse with people with _manners._" Kurt said with a tint of anger in his voice. That was when Rachel stopped him and turned him around to face her.

Rachel Berry knew her best friend better than that.

"Kurt, you need to accept that we're out of Lima! All of the hate and the bullying... that's all behind you now," Rachel cooed, rubbing the boy's back. "You're now living in one of the most liberal cities in the world. Boys will be a possibility for you now. Enjoy it!"

Kurt rolled his eyes. This was going to take some getting used to.

Just as Kurt and Rachel were finishing setting the table for the first dinner in their new apartment, Santana, now dressed in her newly appointed NYU cheerleading uniform, burst through the front door and interrupted the rest of the world without a care.

"Listen up, Wonder Twins, because boy, do I have some news for you two," Santana shouted as she entered the apartment, loudly plopping down at the table where Kurt and Rachel were then peacefully eating dinner.

"NYU is the best thing to ever happen to this planet. The fucking campus is amazing and do you know how many clubs there are? A shit ton," she said excitedly. "Not to mention all the hotties walking around. I can maybe even get Hummel laid."

"Yeah I don't think I'm going to need your help with that because apparently NYADA is just crawling with guys who want to tap this." Kurt scoffed taking a bite of the pasta he made for dinner.

"Well duh, it's NYADA, it's full of twinks, Hummel," Santana replied rolling her eyes, "Well, speaking of getting laid guess what else I found out about." She said pulling up a chair next to Kurt and nudging his shoulder suggestively.

"I don't really care, San," he responded not bothering to look up from his dinner.

"Oh, I think you will-"

"Would you just leave him alone?" Rachel intruded, "Kurt clearly doesn't want to talk about this so just shut up and eat your dinner."

Santana sighed pulling the chair back to her spot at the table and sitting down.

"It's okay, Rach." Kurt looked up from his food and over to Santana, "just go ahead."

Santana's face lit up as she began. "Okay, so about ten minutes from here there is supposedly this kick-ass gay bar," she said animatedly as she watches Kurt's eyes grow bigger than a cartoon. "I guess all the hottest gay guys from NYU go there so I was just think that you should go sometime, Kurtie!" She finished with a wide grin on her face, eyes staring at Kurt as if she were waiting for praise and a thank you for this useless information.

"No," He simply replied looking back at Santana.

"What do you mean 'no'? You can't not go. You have to at least give it a chance-"

"No means no, Santana," Kurt began. "I didn't come to New York to go out and party every night. I have no interest in going to this bar." He defended.

"Come on Hummel, you have to let loose some time. If you keep being such a stuck-up bitch about it, you are never gonna lose your V card," Santana urged while beginning to eat her dinner.

Kurt's stomach clenched at that. Did Santana know him at all? If Kurt Hummel was one of those types of guys, he would have been throwing himself around a long time ago. No, he was past Lima and past bullies and god _damnit_ all he cared about was getting this stupid part in Phantom and -

"HOW DARE YOU." He screamed in rage, cutting of his thoughts and stormed angrily off to his room.

Rachel gave Santana a knowing look as she rolled her eyes, and the two continued to eat in silence.

* * *

The first week of classes and orientation flew by smoothly, with Kurt not really delving too deep into anything just yet. Sure, he paid attention in class, and he loved exploring the city and even rushing _Chicago_ with Rachel that one time, but there was only one real thing he truly cared about so far, despite San's popular belief.

Rachel, of course, was going to be a shoo-in for Christine during the auditions. However, although he knew his range could outdo a solid 95% of any of the males flocking the gorgeous, star-studded campus, he knew getting his dream role would be a long shot.

He just had to Phantom his ass off.

"_Let your mind start a journey through a strange new world,_

_Leave all your thoughts of the world you knew before,_

_Let your soul take you where you long to be,_

_Only then you can belong to me.._

_You alone can make my song take flight -_

_help me make the music of the night"_

Kurt's beautiful countertenor echoed off the walls of his bedroom. Thank God Rachel and Santana had agreed to share one of the two bedrooms so the boy had his own er, me time.

This was not one of those times. He was practicing, for crying out loud.

A sharp knock interrupted his self-choreographed interpretation of the song. Kurt sighed as he removed his mask and cape, throwing it on his bed to answer the now rapping door.

"What do you want, Santana? I'm trying to practice," Kurt said monotonously as he stuck his head out through the door.

"Lady Hummel, you know how sexy I think you are. And how much I adore your voice. But it's been the same fucking song for like four hours straight and I've been trying to masturbate now for over an hour but your voice is blocking my sexy place," Santana said bluntly, not so subtlety pouting down toward her lady parts in frustration.

Kurt started cracking up. God, he had warmed up so much to Santana over the years.

"San, how are you even doing that right now? Isn't Rachel home?" Kurt asked confusedly, now stepping outside of the room looking for the girl.

Just as Santana was about to open her mouth, as if on cue, Rachel Berry, who originally left the house head-to-toe perfect as usual in her stockings, sweater dress, and her hair straightened to a tee entered the living room.

To say she looks a little disheveled would be an understatement, as both Kurt and Santana's eyes went wide as they took the petite brunette in now, with her smeared make up, naturally curled hair, and was that a rip in her stocking?

"_Holy shit, Berry!_!" Santana greeted her roommate, throwing her into tight hug. "_Did you fucking get laid without me_!?"

"What?" Kurt said, feeling the absence spreading to his crotch. God, he needed some more me time.

Rachel started doing that girly giggle of hers, and Kurt would have tried to tune her out entirely, but he couldn't help but listen to her erotic story.

"His name is Jared and he's in my Dance 101 class and he asked me to stay back with him after class to help him perfect the tango we're learning," Rachel began, her voice elevating in pitch as the story reached its peak. "..but as soon as everyone left he just pressed me right up against the mirrors and practically dry humped me!" Rachel screamed excitedly, now lifting the collar of her dress to reveal several bruise-shaped hickeys lining her neck.

Kurt's face went white as he almost felt his hand twitch toward his dick.

"Rachel… I'm surprised. You're usually not like this," Kurt said profoundly, watching the two girls glare at him as if he just killed the best vibe ever. "What about not wanting boys to get-"

"Kurt," Rachel started as if she were speaking to a 5-year-old. "This didn't get in the way of my career, it was just a little play time" Rachel said, new sexy confidence abound as she strut past Kurt on the way toward her bedroom.

"Berry, let's fuck right now," Santana said as she followed her into the room, Rachel hysterically laughing along the way.

Kurt felt like he was punched in the stomach. No, he told himself. You don't need them. You don't need boys and their lovely hands and their mouths and their -

A trip to the bathroom was suddenly necessary.

* * *

It was just past five o'clock on a sunny, Friday afternoon, and Kurt had been practicing in one of NYADA's many glamorous ballroom-esque style auditoriums for over three hours now, and god damnit he deserved a little frozen yogurt. He pulled off his phantom mask and folded his cape to tuck them both inside his bag before heading out to the hallway where he found Rachel and Santana waiting for him.

"OH, LADY HUMMEL," Santana obnoxiously shouted, filling the auditorium with her recognizable echo. "You're one fucking late of a date!"

Kurt could have easily just ran to them a little faster, but if she was going to be an asshole, as was Rachel giggling next to her, he could be one too.

With stumbling and laughter, the three exited the room and ventured out into the hallway, near deep in a conversation about the underwear Santana was planning to wear this weekend when they heard something muffled coming from the opposite end of the hallway.

"Of course it's Hummel," one of the men said catching the attention of the three friends, "I could hear his shrieking from all the way out here."

"If you think it's shrieking now just imagine what he sounds like in the bedroom," Another man added shooting Kurt and his friends a glare from across the hallway.

"No way, that prude isn't getting any in the bedroom!" The first man replied tearing his gaze away from Kurt. The group of sassy choir boys gave Kurt the last once-over and then proceeded to exit the end of the hallway.

"Excuse me?" Santana shouted after the departing fairy boys. "Did you fuckers seriously just talk to my boy Kurt like that? NO ME GUSTA. Do you really want to mess with someone who proudly was raised in Lima Heights Adjacent-"

Santana began to follow the boys down the hallway continuing in her degrading rant, when something fiery sparked inside of Kurt.

Maybe Rachel and Santana were right.

Maybe he was being a bit too uptight and rigid.

Maybe he hasn't truly embraced the liberality of New York yet, but there was a sure-fire way he could.

Maybe he was a bit lonely and after all the Phantom even had a companion and -

"Rachel," Kurt says practically in a whisper, grabbing her shoulders. "I need to fucking go to that gay bar."


	2. Chapter 2

**Title: Unintended**

**Summary: Kurt Hummel is starting over. Out of high school and out of Lima, he's entering the biggest adventure of his life in NYC alongside his two best friends, Rachel Berry and Santana Lopez. However, while he can handle his new NYADA classes and the new atmosphere of the Big Apple, there's one aspect of the city life he can't quite handle yet - boys. When an unexpected one night stand leaves Kurt heartbroken, a new love begins to pick up the pieces, until Kurt realizes that both of his conquests are unfortunately connected.**

**Authors Note:**  
Hello everyone! Thanks again so much for reading the first chapter, and we hope you enjoyed getting to know our version of kurcheltana a bit more (they're clearly a bit more vulgar and fun in our interpretation). But now, this chapter has what you've been waiting for. Enjoy!

Also, this chapter goes a bit back-and-forth between Kurt and Sebastian's POV, but you'll be able to tell. We don't know in the future how much of the switch we're going to do, but as for now, the story will be mainly told through Kurt's beautiful eyes.

xoxo Kelly & Macy

* * *

**CHAPTER TWO**

Kurt felt like his body was on fire.

Maybe it was the freshly-printed illegal driver's license that Santana somehow made him just hours before his departure burning a tight hole in his pocket. Maybe it was just because his whole body felt _tight_, and not just in the obvious "Hey, look at me, I'm a virgin," kind of way, though the lost puppy look in his glacier blue eyes sure gave off that vibe.

Nah, it was definitely just his pants. Did Rachel _seriously _have to choose the TIGHTEST pants in his closet for him to wear tonight? What if he ends up eating or drinking something more than one calorie and the button pops right off his waist -

_Easy, Hummel_, Kurt thought to himself. _You're hot, er, 35, and from Portland, Oregon._

Seriously, why would someone from Oregon be in New York City, for fuck's sake?

Apparently, the "bouncer" thought it made sense, cuz he let Kurt walk by without a second glance. Or maybe he had just fallen asleep sitting up.

With a deep breath, Kurt Hummel closed his eyes and stepped right into a whole new world - NYU's finest and (probably only) gay bar in the vicinity, _Royals._

"There's got to be more people in here than in the whole state of Ohio." He murmured to himself, letting the unfamiliar environment sink in. The bass was throbbing in his head and if it wasn't for the men sliding in the door behind him giving him a slight shove, he would have stayed standing at that entryway for another good ten minutes.

Subconsciously avoiding the bar, Kurt's gaze drifted around the club, taking it all in through the hypnotic beats blasting wall to wall, and the neon lights glistening off of the beer bottles, and jewelry in certain cases. It was actually a decent size, with a more than decent-sized dance floor.

Maybe dancing could be his first "gay bar superstar" moment. Kurt knew he wasn't good at certain things, but boy, he sure knew how to shake his ass on any dance floor.

Sebastian Smythe was a regular at Royals. He knew this bar inside and out. In fact, he had pretty much fucked someone on every square-inch of this place. Now, as an eager tongue licked the sweat off of his neck, and his body was encompassed by a set of strong arms, crushing his chest, in what was supposed to be a sexy gesture, the slender boy just smirked. This guy was so fucking drunk he couldn't even align his dick against his own hard on. What a fucking waste.

"Let's fuck right here," the incoherently drunk boy whispered sloppily in Sebastian's ear, attempting to grab his hands to not so subtly place them on his ass. Too bad all Sebastian could focus on was the smell of Captain Morgan on his breath. Gross.

Speaking of alcohol, it had been a solid ten minutes since Sebastian had a much deserved shot of vodka. This could also be his chance to ditch drunky chode over here and find some real action.

"Um, no thanks, but maybe you can get Mick Jagger over there to give you some," Sebastian said shoving the man across the dance floor to a man straight out of the 70's. Seriously, what kind of guy leaves the house dressed in fucking gold pants? Who did this guy think he -

Oh. Shit.

Sebastian made a mental note to thank whatever asshole invented the stupid "Pop, Lock, and Drop it" dance, because Mr. Gold Pants just bent over and all Sebastian saw his next conquest.

But this guy looked so...innocent. Painfully so. How was he, Sebastian Smythe, supposed to reel in this fucking prude? I mean, if his hips were any indication of his sex life, maybe this guy would be an animal in bed.

_Nah_, he has too soft of eyes, Sebastian duly noted. It was time to turn on the good-guy act. Time to turn up the charm.

And with what he would like to call his classic smirk, Sebastian Smythe set a plan in motion.

Kurt was done. He was so done. Why did he ever think this was a good idea? He was fed up with the way he was being treated. Seriously, someone had just grabbed his ass, and he had no idea who did it. Was it the drag queen to the left trying to be Cinderella, or the creepy 45-year-old ogling his gold pants?

He was going to _kill_ Rachel Berry when he got home, but that thought could wait. Right now, he just needed to get out of this fucking crowd and breathe. The bar seemed like the only suitable place to go.

The thought of a bar used to scare Kurt, but this is not what he expected at all. He also had no idea what any of the drinks were that lined the walls, that all seemingly looked like the same bottle over and over again. What was the big deal about drinking anyway? Did this stuff even taste good? Right now he was grateful everyone was still on the dance floor. He definitely needed a minute alone before venturing back into the gay urban jungle.

At least Kurt _thought _he was alone.

"I'll take a Coors, draft, please," Kurt saw the young man say, who was currently sitting a seat over from him. The guy was smiling way too widely at the female bartender, and was he seriously batting his eyelashes? This jackass was trying to get a free drink.

But then the jackass turned his head, and Kurt almost said out loud that he would have given the boy a free drink, too.

This guy was essentially the first attractive guy he had seen all night. His face was so angular, with a jawline so sharp it could pierce through plenty of inappropriate places. His eyes shimmered a light blue, and Kurt swore he saw them twinkle as the waitress clearly handed him his free drink. He was dressed rather nicely for someone that ya know, wasn't as fashionable as him, and rather dressed simply. Normally, Kurt would disregard someone just wearing a black polo and jeans, but this guy really knew how to make it look fucking hot. Maybe he should say something or-

"Hey," Sebastian said as coolly as he could, sliding in effortlessly to sit on the stool next to Kurt. "You look as about uncomfortable as I am," the tall boy said, smiling at Kurt with the most innocent look he could muster.

Kurt, clearly taken aback by the strange, attractive boy's response, just stared. Was this guy for real? He could have sworn he may seen him dancing with some other guy a bit ago. Maybe his mind was playing tricks on him.

Maybe he should just stop thinking. Besides, this boy had the most beautiful smile..

"O-o-h, yeah. This usually isn't my type of scene," Kurt said, trying to giggle as sweetly as possible. People laugh like that in movies and it works. Maybe he should laugh louder -

"Oh, how rude am I. I'm Sebastian. Sebastian Smythe," the taller boy said holding out his hand, interrupting Kurt from his forced nervous laughter.

"Kurt Hummel," he replied returning the handshake. Hopefully his hands weren't too sweaty. God, he was so bad at this.

Or maybe not too bad, considering the beautiful boy was giving him what he believed to be "bedroom eyes."

Kurt Hummel could give bedroom eyes back if he wanted to.

He wasn't some delicate flower anymore, right?

"Excuse me," Kurt said, signaling the bartender. "I'll take a Long Island Iced Tea," Kurt said as confidently as he could, considering this was the only real mix drink he knew existed.

"Didn't peg you for a Long Island type a guy," Sebastian said, watching the boy take a tentative first sip, and noting how his bright blue eyes went wide unexpectedly at the intensity of his drink.

"What kind of guy did you peg me for then, Mr. Smythe?" Kurt said, more or less now guzzling his drink.

Sebastian took a sip of his beer, his eyes never leaving Kurt. "Well, you just said you don't usually come to these things. I didn't think you'd be much of a drinker is all, gorgeous."

_Oh god. The smirk. The eyes. Just keep drinking whatever fucking foul tasting thing this is. Come on, Hummel._

Kurt apparently drank too fast and started coughing. Great, so much for the acting skills. "No, no, I drink occasionally, I meant this was just my first time at this bar. "So, where do you go to school?," Kurt asked quickly, changing the subject.

Sebastian's eyes widened, not accustomed to the subject of small-talk.

"Oh, I'm studying pre-law at NYU, this is my second year. How about you, Kurt?" Sebastian practically purred, and Kurt swore his own name never sounded sexier.

It took Kurt a second more to stop staring before he answered. "Oh, I just started at NYADA, majoring in musical theatre. I'm a freshman."

"Ah, so this is probably one of your first nights out in New York City. Well let's make it a bit special then, yeah?" Sebastian said, downing the rest of his beer in one gulp and standing up from the stool. "Besides, you look way too good in those pants to just sit here all night."

Kurt's instincts told him to stay seated. This guy was just like every other asshole he'd met so far in New York. And that innocent act in the beginning? Bullshit. But for some reason, things just felt..different. They felt right.

"Is this your oh-so gentlemanly way of asking me to dance, Sebastian?" Kurt snapped before finishing the rest of his drink. He could have sworn this Sebastian guy looked impressed as he chugged the liquid back with a brave face.

Sebastian just chuckled and reached for Kurt's hand again, and the two headed toward the dance floor.

Kurt completely lost track of time. Had him and Sebastian been dancing for seven songs, eight, or nine? He was sweating and his head was spinning from the effects of his drink, but he had never felt more alive. He kept telling himself that it was just because of the hypnotic lights, and the rush of adrenaline that flowed through his body as he danced in time with the beat, but he knew he was fooling himself. There's no way he liked this Sebastian guy. He was at a club! People simply don't think like this at clubs. Sebastian was just this gorgeous asshole who really knew how to move his hips, and who had this collected air around him that Kurt envied.

Kurt's thoughts were interrupted by the sensation of Sebastian's lips sucking on his neck. He had never been kissed before, let alone had someone do this sort of thing to the apparent most sensitive spot of his fucking body.

And as the cliché blushing virgin, Kurt couldn't help the moan that escaped his lips, which was followed by the soft vibration of Sebastian laughing against his skin.

"Why don't you make that sound for me again," Sebastian whispered hotly into his ear, as Sebastian's hands, once at Kurt's hips, made their way down to his ass. Kurt had to all out stop himself from yelping in surprise as Sebastian gave his ass a squeeze.

"God, I knew you would have the most amazing ass here the second I saw you bend over in these pants," Sebastian said again in his ear, before reattaching his lips now to Kurt's jawline.

_Shit shit shit. Fucking hell -_

Kurt was trying not to pass out. He was trying to keep dancing at this point. He had never felt like this before in his entire life. Sure, he's not immune to being turned on, but by an actual person touching him and kissing him? This was almost too much. He almost wanted to stop and slow down.

But he didn't.

"You like that, don't you? Why don't you show me how much, gorgeous?" Sebastian whispered again, pushing his dick further against Kurt, who almost gasped at the feeling. He was the one doing this to Sebastian. Sebastian liked him. Sebastian was feeling this way because of _him._

And with that, Kurt was turned around, facing Sebastian face-to-face. There was barely a breath of space between them before Sebastian grabbed Kurt's face, kissing him hard. Kurt didn't know how to react at first, frozen shocked at the feeling of being kissed for the first time. He was a little drunk but he was happy and Sebastian's lips felt nice and -

Sebastian edged his tongue inside Kurt's mouth, biting along his lip in the process, and Kurt full-on moaned back into his mouth as he began kissing him back. He fisted his hands through Sebastian's hair, all while trying to keep their hips moving along to the music.

This was fucking hot and this was everything. Rachel was right, Santana was right. This was what he had been missing. He was just having fun, making out with this gorgeous guy, pleasantly drunk. Everything was great -

"Let's take this back to my place," Sebastian blurted out as he detached his lips from Kurt's, moving them again to suck on his neck. Kurt stopped cold. He knew what this meant. He knew what would happen. Kurt Hummel of six months ago would be screaming at him to turn around and walk away, but Kurt Hummel six months ago didn't have a painful hard-on and a gorgeous boy's lips attached to his profile.

"Y-yeah," Kurt breathily whispered back, letting out a shaky breath, as Sebastian reached down once more to cup his ass. "Let's go."

* * *

Rays of sunlight prominently danced off the large glass mirror in Sebastian Smythe's bedroom. The natural lighting along with a combination of a few peaceful chirping birds rose Kurt from a not-so-deep sleep. He opened his bright blue eyes slowly, taking in the comfort of his surroundings. He was covered in a thin white sheet, the deep red comforter kicked to the ground in lieu of the late August weather. He snuggled closer into himself and closed his eyes again before the rushing pain to the head reminded him of reality, along with the nausea in the back of his throat.

He was not in his own bed.

Kurt apparently vocalized his cursed thoughts, as his panicked voice woke up Sebastian sleeping beside him, now fully facing him and noticeably very naked.

"Morning, princess." Sebastian said sleepily, the snark creeping up in his voice.

Kurt gasped again as more realizations hit his head along with the throbbing headache.

He had lost his virginity last night.

He had lost his virginity to a man he just met last night. Sebastian Smythe.

Sebastian Smythe. He was in Sebastian's bed.

"Shit," Kurt said, jumping out of bed (thank God he was at least in his boxers).

"What are you looking for?" Sebastian asked casually, as if he did this waking-up-next-to-this-random-I-fucked thing frequently. Maybe he does.

"M-my phone. I need my phone. I never called my friends -" Kurt said, as the sound of his phone vibrating on the dresser filled the room.

"Rachel, I am SO sorry, I'm fine, I promise," He answered the shrill voice on the other line. "I'm uh, I'm at an apartment by NYU. Yes, I'll uh, explain everything later. Yes, I'll get a cab home. I'm fine. I'm fine. I'll see you soon," Kurt closed his phone with dread as he turned around to face Sebastian again.

Kurt, still dazed by his entire situation, took in Sebastian once again. He was still gorgeous. His hair was sleepily disgruntled, and his eyes were still stunning, still pouring into his. He looked like a prince wrapped up in that sheet. He was beautiful. Was Kurt still drunk?

"I, um, just realized I never gave you number," Kurt said nervously, edging slightly toward the bed to give his phone to Sebastian, whose expression now changed from soft to cold as stone. This was what he was supposed to do, right?

"That won't be necessary, sweetheart. Your clothes are in a pile in that chair over there. My roommate will be home any minute, so I would appreciate it if you left before he gets home," Sebastian said, a business-like tone flooding his voice.

Kurt Hummel's heart dropped like a stone.

He just stared blankly at Sebastian, not knowing what to do with his hands. "But, last night -"

"Last night was great. You're a great fuck, babe. It was fun. I'll probably see you around, too." Sebastian said swiftly, without a blink.

"So..s-so- that was it,." Wow. Fucking wow. "That's all? Just one, quick fuck?" Kurt began shouting. Why was he shouting? Maybe because he gave his fucking virginity to someone he thought would maybe like him for once. He began rummaging around for his clothes, cursing under his breath.

"Oh come on, sweetheart. I thought you knew what this was gonna be. I never fuck the same person twice, babe, but I promise, you gave good enough head that I will cherish it in my heart forever," Sebastian said mockingly.

Kurt just turned around and faced the boy, now dressed. He was angry. He was beyond fucking hurt. More importantly, he was more disappointed in himself.

"Fuck you, Sebastian," was all Kurt could say, barely holding back tears, before storming out of the apartment.

He walked all the way home in his shame, crying quietly into his sleeve.

How could he have been so fucking stupid? How could he have let one charming, handsome boy into his brain and into his heart and into his _pants _so fast? Had he really thought this was something else?

Kurt didn't know what he was going to do with himself. The only thing he knew for sure was that he didn't know who he hated more - the entire male population, Sebastian Fucking Smythe, or himself.

What a great start to his freshman year in New York City.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary: Kurt Hummel is starting over. Out of high school and out of Lima, he's entering the biggest adventure of his life in NYC alongside his two best friends, Rachel and Santana. However, while he can handle his new NYADA classes and the new atmosphere of the Big Apple, there's one aspect of the city life he can't quite handle yet - boys. When an unexpected one night stand leaves Kurt heartbroken, a new love begins to pick up the pieces, until Kurt realizes that both of his conquests are unfortunately connected.**

**Author's Note:  
**Hello all! Kelly & Macy here again. This update took 2 weeks, and I know that in fic land, that's eternity, so thanks so much for being so patient. This chapter is almost double length of the last two, but there's a lot to cover in this one! This chapter is really when things start to get intense and pick up.

Also, **spoiler**: Blaine appears in this chapter. As stated previously, he plays a very positive and essential role in this story. Now, you'll know why.

Next update will be sooner than two weeks, we promise, and we hope you enjoy it!

xoxo  
Kelly & Macy

* * *

Kurt Hummel was sweating.

"Shirt. Off. Now," Sebastian said shakily as he directed his attention away from Kurt's now freshly-bruised neck to wrap his lips around his glistening profile.

"Is this your oh-so-gentlemanly way of trying to get me naked, Sebastian?" Kurt said with a breathy sigh. "Because you might have to work a little harder than that."

And with his signature smirk and a shove to the couch, Kurt found himself pinned him down by Sebastian's weight, too distracted by the mouth on his neck to care.

"You're going to leave about a million marks on me," Kurt said as he closed his eyes, feeling the buttons of his shirt being undone one by one.

"Don't worry, sweetheart, I also plan on marking you places where no one else gets to see," Sebastian said arching up for a moment to remove his shirt before reaching for the belt on Kurt's jeans.

With a quick tug, Kurt was practically naked.

"Sebastian" Kurt pleaded, but the tall boy just smiled and positioned himself further down on the couch. "Are you gonna-"

Kurt's thoughts were interrupted completely as Sebastian took his cock fully in his mouth without warning.

"Ohgodohgod Seb," Kurt cried out. "You need to fucking warn me before you-"

"Shut up princess," Sebastian said quickly, stroking Kurt now in his hand. "After all, you gave me the best head ever once, it's only fitting I return the favor."

Kurt shot himself awake with a loud cry. Confused and bewildered, his eyes circled his dark, lonely room. He was alone. He wasn't in Sebastian's apartment.

Night after night, he was forced to wake up to what beautiful yet demonic images his subconscious had decided to grace him with. Something about Sebastian and his damn smirk-

Kurt didn't even realize he was crying until he heard his 'privacy' curtain swing open, and within seconds, a 3 a.m. styled Rachel Berry cuddled in bed next to him. Wordlessly, she began rubbing his back softly, letting Kurt cry into her arms until his shuddering subsided.

"I don't understand why this keeps happening," Kurt said once his voice was calm enough to understand. "Why do I keep having dreams about him? He _used_ me and then threw me out like a piece of trash. I. Am. Not. Trash," Kurt emphasized, feeling the tears beginning to well in his sad, blue eyes once more.

"Of course you're not, honey," Rachel cooed, running her fingers through Kurt's sleep-matted hair, earning a hum of appreciation from the boy as he snuggled closer on her chest. "You're the most amazing and talented person I've ever met, and I'm including myself in this generalization. That means a lot," Rachel said laughing.

Kurt laughed, too. "Thank you. I know I'll get over this soon. It's just taking fucking _forever_," Kurt said with a sharp eye roll.

"It's only been, like, three weeks, Kurt. Having something like that happen to a person takes more time than that to process, let alone begin to lessen in pain," Rachel began. "And you know Santana and I support you no matter what, even if this is the second time this week I've been in here at 3 in the morning."

Kurt sighed and untangled himself from his best friend. "Thank you, again," he said sleepily. "Oh, would you mind not telling Santana? I mean, I know she was understanding at first about my uh, dreams, but it's been a while and -"

"Don't worry, Kurt. My lips are sealed!" She said as she stood off of Kurt's bed. "I'll see you in the morning. Tomorrow is a new day, and it will be a better one," Rachel said before closing his privacy curtains once more.

_We'll see about that, _Kurt pessimistically thought to himself before fortunately falling back to sleep.

When Kurt re-awoke with the sun shining in too brightly in his eyes the following morning, he still didn't feel any better. With a deep sigh, he somehow managed to unwrap his heavy legs from the sheets, slip on his slippers, and drag himself out into the kitchen. Once his cyan eyes were fully open and focused, he was greeted by none other than a very determined and slightly annoyed looking Santana hovering over the dining room table, and a very nervous looking Rachel burying her face into her coffee.

"What's this all about? Where's my coffee?" Kurt complained, rubbing at his eyes.

"Sit down, lady lips. This is an intervention. Don't question it," Santana practically shouted at a now very confused Kurt.

"So..." Kurt said slowly after taking a drink of his freshly brewed coffee in the now apparent hotseat.

"Rachel told me about your little problem-"

"Rachel!" Kurt hissed, side-eyeing his friend in the kitchen. Rachel mouthed a quick and clearly unapologetic 'sorry' and returned her shameful gaze toward Santana.

"Anyway," Santana began. "Look at yourself Kurt, and I don't mean pity yourself. I mean check yourself out. You are hot as _hell_, Hummel. It's been what? A month? Get out there! No time like the present hot stuff!"

"Tana, listen, I'm sure this is an attempt at help," Kurt said quickly. "But I don't need a man. I never have. I need time, I guess. I need time to forgive myself and properly move on," Kurt explained to his coffee, not making eye contact with either of the girls.

"Kurt," Santana said slowly, this time with a bit more nurturing tone in her voice. "Listen, Rachel and I love you to death, and this isn't healthy, boy. I know what happened to you sucked, but it's only going to get better if you make it better. And by make it better, I mean get your hot ass back out on the market and make that Sebastian whatever-the-fuck-his-name-is guy sorry he didn't keep you around."

"It's just hard, you know? I feel like the universe has for it out to me, like only this bad shit keeps happening. Between Sebastian and STILL not knowing about Phantom, I'm just not in the best place right now," Kurt said sadly, looking down at his hand now clasped in Rachel's.

"Hey, look at me Kurt." Santana said, interrupting his thoughts of self-pity. "The world, hell this city, is _full _of amazing, amazing opportunities, okay? And Rach and I won't let you spend another day missing them. We didn't move out here so we could spend our days like this. Don't let this dickhead keep you down, Hummel. You're better than this." Santana said shaking his shoulders. "Besides, I'm sure you made that audition last week your bitch. Seriously. Back me up, Berry."

"Oh, absolutely," Rachel practically shouted at the wide-eyed boy. "My spies in the casting office are certain that we will both at least get Callbacks for Christine and Phantom, and how can we not? We've always been -"

"_Fabulous_" Kurt and Rachel said at the same time, their enthusiasm bouncing off of each other in waves.

"Okay, if the WonderTwins are done trying to out-gay one another, can we get back to what really matters? You got this, Kurt. You're going to meet someone else. You're too special not too, as much as it pains me to say that out loud," Santana said.

"You guys..." Kurt said fondly, exchanging glances with both his roommates. "You're right. I'll try to be better. I deserve to be."

"That's my dough boy." Santana said, helping the boy to his feet.

"Oh, shut the fuck up," Kurt laughed.

"Remember what I said babe? New day," Rachel said sweetly as she grabbed her coffee, discretely edging toward the bathroom. "I call shower first!" She suddenly yelled as she darted for the hallway.

"Hell no, hobbit!" Santana yelled back. "If you hop in there right now, I'm just going to have to hop in there and join you-"

Kurt stood up from his chair and smiled adoringly at the girls. Even though he still hurt, he knew it was time to put Sebastian in his past. And leave him there. In a locked box. Gone. Right?

_Here goes nothing._

* * *

Kurt looked down at his way-too-expensive watch for maybe the eighth time in the last thirty seconds. His next class, Theatre History 101, started in three minutes, and he was beyond fucking far away.

He just _had_ to have a bad hair day. Santana just _had_ to spend a half hour blow drying her long, gorgeous hair in their shared bathroom. And the guy in front of him right now just _had_ to be fucking texting and walking at the speed of a person with broken limbs.

Kurt Hummel was never late to anything. He used to show up to middle school thirty minutes early like clockwork, even back then in his youth proving his superiority over his neanderthal peers who would rush through the door minutes after the bell would ring. And now, years later, HE was going to be that neanderthal. Fantastic.

Just one more sharp right in this God forsaken hallway and he might be able to make it on time. How did he look? He was sure his hair was messed up from running and probably his jeans were clinging to his body tighter than usual -

"Shit" Kurt gasped as he collided with another human body forcefully as he turned the corner. Really, _now_ of all times someone had to not be watching where they were going. The universe clearly hated him today.

Kurt mentally blamed the stranger knowing it was probably more his own fault, but he was so angry he just didn't care. This person was an inconvenience and now also another reason why his clothes - and now books - were a mess. The array of textbooks, once balanced between his arm and torso, went toppling to the floor in a mess of paper. Great.

"Um, sorry." Kurt mumbled out insincerely, not even bothering to look at the man he had just collided with before leaning over to pick up the textbooks and stray papers now littering the crowded floor.

"Oh no, this was absolutely my fault. I am so sorry," the stranger said, and Kurt swore he had never heard a dreamier voice in his life.

"Here, let me help you with those," the boy said as he removed his own backpack, setting it on the ground to bend over on the floor.

"I wouldn't say it was _absolutely_ your fault" Kurt said to the floor, still too afraid to make eye contact with dreamy-voiced stranger. _Fuck,_ he was definitely more than very late now, he just needed to reach for his last book and get going -

And that was when he felt the heat of the stranger's hand brush up against his wrist, as the boy had beat him to his last fallen book. The heat began to flood to his face, his body automatically tensing at the touch, until he finally met the stranger's eyes.

Kurt Hummel was in awe. He was stunned. Was he breathing? He definitely wasn't breathing. The boy had the most gorgeous hazel eyes, with kindness just pouring into his gaze. And then the boy smiled, and Kurt swore it was the most beautiful smile he had ever seen.

"Hi," the boy said. "My name's Blaine."

Kurt didn't realize he was staring until he saw Blaine's hand held out for what was most-likely supposed to be a friendly hand shake that Kurt had now made incredibly awkward.

"Oh-O-Oh," Kurt blurted out, throwing his hand forcefully into the stranger, _Blaine's,_ he mentally corrected, hand.

_Blaine._

"I'm Kurt. Thank you for helping me pick up my stuff," he said awkwardly, also mentally noting that they were two college-aged boys having a conversation on the ground.

Kurt took this miniature fraction of time to really look at Blaine. He was just so _handsome, _dressed primly in a pair of pressed, maybe a little too small, khakis and a blue and red plaid button up buttoned all the way up to his neck. Kurt continued to appraise Blaine's outfit while managing to push himself off the ground with one hand, holding books in the other stumbling only slightly.

"Whoa there," Blaine chuckled, reaching out to grab Kurt's shoulder to counterbalance his lean. "Let's stay upright from now on." Kurt awkwardly laughed at the comment before his brain once again remembered the class he was now late for.

"I really gotta go, late for class." Kurt said already moving towards the direction of his classroom and away from the other boy.

"I'll see you around, Kurt." Blaine said with a small wave. Kurt remained silent, nodding back.

_I sure hope so._

* * *

Kurt's head was absolutely spinning by the time he finally got back to his apartment later that afternoon. He knew he had a paper due, and an in-class performance in Dance 101 coming up this week, not to mention the possibility of a Phantom Callback in the near future, but all he was _still_ thinking about was that beautiful pair of hazel eyes.

"_I'll see you around, Kurt."_

Fortunately, his oh-so-lovable roommates pulled him out of his thoughts with a loud, clatter of noise. And what was that smell?

"BERRY," Kurt heard Santana shout in the kitchen. "I TOLD YOU WE SHOULD HAVE TAKEN IT OUT OF THE OVEN SOONER. IT'S BURNT. I'M GONNA BURN YOU NOW."

"Santana," He saw Rachel try to remain calm as he entered the kitchen curiously. "I'm a vegan. I don't even eat chicken, excuse me for my judgement being a little off. I have a lot more to worry about other than your dinner-"

"OH LIKE, WHAT, HUH? YOU HAVE TO PRACTICE MORE OF YOUR GAY SHOWTUNES FOR THAT GAY MUSICAL-"

"LADIES," Kurt shouted, throwing his hands in the air. "First of all, move," Kurt said as he forcibly shoved himself between the two. "I'll fix this. Second of all, I...I think I have some good news."

"You got laid."

"You heard about the Callbacks."

"No, and no. God, both of you are so predictable," Kurt said, fondly rolling his eyes at his two best friends.

Kurt noticed for the two to sit down, as he pulled the unfortunately burnt chicken out of the oven.

"I met a guy today."

"WHAT!" The two girls shouted at the same time, and simultaneously, the poor chicken in a spastic Kurt Hummel's hands flew into the air and landed on the ground.

"WHAT THE FUCK THAT WAS MY DINNER-"

"Forget the damn bird, Santana!" Rachel hissed, her face going from angry to excitable as she noted the light shining in Kurt's blue eyes. "Go on! Who is he?!"

"He helped me today when I practically ran into him in the hallway on the way to History-"

"Can you be any more cliche?" Santana whispered before Rachel hit her in the ribs.

"He's devastatingly _handsome_, and he has the _dreamiest _voice, it's all I could think about all day."

Kurt sighed as he leaned against the counter, seemingly forgetting all about him and Santana's dinner that he dropped at his feet.

"Well what's his name, Hummel? You know I'm itching to Facebook stalk this guy," Santana said enthusiastically.

"His name is Blaine-"

"WHOA," Rachel yelled as stood up in her chair. "Blaine as in Blaine Anderson?"

"I mean I didn't get his last name -"

"Dark, overly gelled hair? Perky, round ass? Big, hazel eyes?" Rachel began and Kurt swore she was practically drooling.

"You're definitely right about the ass," Kurt said, shivering at the memory of watching Blaine walk away. "But yeah, that sounds like the guy. Blaine Anderson."

"Kurt! He's in my Advanced Vocal Class! He's a sophomore and he's wildly talented. I mean, of course, not nearly as talented as me, and sometimes I can hear his pitch be slightly off when we're singing together-"

"A sophomore! That-a-boy, Hummel!," Santana said excitedly. "So, when you taking this fine, _older_ ass out on a date?"

"First off, I'm sure he's not even that much older, and second-"

"I'm going to stop you both there because there is no way I'm letting you ask out Blaine," Rachel stated dramatically, cutting off Kurt mid-sentence.

"What? Why? Is he straight?," Kurt panicked. "Oh my god, he's straight. I swear my gaydar is never off," Kurt said pacing around the kitchen.

"No, of course he's not straight! You saw his pants right?," Rachel sighed. "Anyway, what I was going to say is that you obviously need to wait for him to ask you out!" Rachel said matter-of-factly.

"Let's see if I got this right," Santana said as she too stood up, taking a step toward Rachel. "Our boy here has finally found himself a hot piece of ass and you want him to wait until he is _asked out_?"

"How would he even ask me out Rach? He has practically no idea who I am and we haven't seen each other on campus until today when I literally ran into him," Kurt bargained.

"I have a plan, Kurt!" Rachel says excitedly. "I mean, I will have a plan. Oh, it's coming to me right now. I knew all of my days of watching those crime shows would come in handy for this moment-"

"Aaaand this is my cue to leave," Santana said, rolling her eyes. "Alright, just don't get me involved. I need to go order me some damn pizza since you ponies ruined my dinner." Santana said angrily, picking up the phone edging toward their living room.

Rachel was right. Things were looking up, after all.

* * *

It had been three days. Three whole days. And Kurt had not even seen of glimpse of one apparently mysterious Blaine Anderson.

I mean, NYADA wasn't exactly a small school, but it wasn't a large one, either. He should have at least have had the chance to drop his books again or bump into the handsome boy in line for coffee at the Union Center. But no, there was nothing.

There was still Rachel's plan, though. They had been up all night the last two nights talking about it. Although Rachel's ideas were wildly dramatic and sometimes dangerous, he did appreciate his best friend's help, even if she was crazy. He just hoped her newest idea (which she wouldn't tell him, by the way) was decent. Or at least functional.

_Sigh._

It had been an ordinary Thursday morning. Kurt especially liked Thursdays because he had a long lunch break before his final two classes of the day. Unfortunately, Rachel was always in class during that time, so he made it a point to relax, put in his headphones (currently on blast with the Phantom soundtrack) and treat himself to a nice, grande nonfat mocha.

Except his 'me' time was unfortunately interrupted when his phone began vibrating obnoxiously on the table.

Rachel was calling? Rachel is in her Advanced Vocal class at this time.

_Oh god._

"Why are you calling me from class? You're supposed to be being obnoxious and singing over everyone," Kurt reluctantly greeted Rachel on the phone.

"I'm going to ignore your unwarrantedly rude comment because THE PLAN IS HAPPENING. THE PLAN IS IN MOTION," Rachel whispered hastily.

"What the hell are you talking about? I'm drinking my coffee. It's delicious," Kurt snapped back, annoyed.

"I'M TELLING YOU, KURT. THIS IS IT. OUR TEACHER LET US OUT EARLY TODAY. I DISTRACTED BLAINE TO KEEP HIM IN KELLER BUILDING AS LONG AS POSSIBLE. YOU HAVE TO GET HERE. NOW."

"What the fuck, Rachel?" Kurt said a bit too loudly, earning him a glare from other patrons in the coffee shop. "I'm all the way at the Union, what am I supposed to do?"

"You're so lucky I'm as smart as I am talented to think of this on the fly," Rachel snapped back. "Get here. Take the bus. Something. And then call me back. I'll keep Blaine busy."

Kurt swore he rolled his eyes into the back of his skull. "Fine," he hung up, and he was on the move.

Ten minutes later (thankfully the campus bus service was right at his stop), Kurt arrived right in front of Keller, where Rachel was supposedly distracting Blaine. As nervous as he was about how she was actually doing this, he was even more nervous for what he was going to do when he saw the boy.

Kurt sighed and dialed Rachel's number, only to find her voice more shrill and panicked than ever.

"KURT. THERE IS NO TIME. THERE'S NO TIME."

"Uh-"

"I SEE YOU THROUGH THE WINDOW. LOOK. SEE ME? YES. HELLO. IM WAVING. YOU SEE ME. OKAY," Rachel said all in one breath. "I NEED YOU TO JUMP IN THE BUSH. AND WHEN HE COMES OUT, YOU NEED TO JUST LIKE, APPEAR."

"Are you crazy?! Rachel I have coffee. And these jeans would not take lightly to grass stains. Why the fuck would I get in a bush-"

"HE'S COMING. KURT. HE'S COMING. BUSH. NOW."

And Rachel hung up.

Cursing one Rachel Berry in every language he knew, Kurt Hummel reluctantly jumped in said bush outside of Keller, feeling as stupid and degraded as physically possible.

_This is a terrible plan. Isn't appearing from nowhere kind of stalkerish? _He rapidly thought to myself, trying to predict any possible outcomes. Before he could do so, a very dapper looking Blaine Anderson, dressed today in maroon skinny jeans rolled at the ankle and a white button up topped off with a navy paisley print bowtie, appeared like clockwork from out of the doorway. He nonchalantly began walking forward in the direction of Kurt's bush, and that's when Kurt's heart did a backflip.

_Wait. What the hell do I do now should I say something to him? Of course I should or maybe I'll- _

Kurt's own thoughts were cut off suddenly when his nervous twitches became the apparent cause of his entire body tripping over what appeared to be a low branch of the bush, simultaneously ruining his pants and revealing his terrible hiding spot. To only make matters worse, the once glorious grande nonfat mocha once peacefully in his hand was now all over his torso.

_Well, fuck._

Kurt stood in the middle of the sidewalk like a deer in headlights, paralyzed in shock at what had just happened to him and his precious shirt.

"Whoa, hey, Kurt?", called a voice.

He recognized that dreamy voice immediately.

_Blaine_.

And before he has the chance to run off in the other direction out of sheer humiliation, Kurt felt a warm hand on his shoulder - the hand the he hadn't been able to stop thinking about for days.

"B-Blaine? Oh gosh, wow. How nice to see you again," Kurt said awkwardly, trying not to crumble to the ground.

"Yeah, you too. It's just such a shame we always run into each other under these terrible pretenses, huh?" Blaine said lightly, eyes confusingly roaming Kurt's coffee-stained torso.

"Oh god, yeah. Wow. I'm just really clumsy, I suppose," Kurt laughed maybe a little too loudly.

Blaine didn't seem to notice.

"Don't worry, it's kind of adorable," Blaine said shyly, a tone of voice Kurt had never expected.

Kurt's face went bright red, and he's pretty sure Blaine noticed again. Again.

"Um, I hope I'm not being too forward here," Blaine said, grabbing Kurt's hand gently. "I mean, since you obviously seem to love coffee so much, why don't we grab a cup sometime? It would give us a chance to meet, uh, vertically."

Kurt genuinely giggled at that. He didn't even have to try. Who was this guy? Prince Charming?

"I would love that, Blaine."

"Great. Great. Can I get your number?," Blaine asked again quietly, the sheer vulnerability flooding through his dreamy, usually confident voice.

Kurt and Blaine exchanged numbers quietly, both of the two boys stealing looks at the other as they entered in their digits on one another's phones.

"Awesome. Well I have to get to my next class, so, I'll call you?" Blaine said as he took a step back.

"Y-yeah. Yeah. Sounds good. Can't wait," Kurt said, walking backwards away from the beautiful boy.

And that was where the story of _Kurt-and-Blaine_ began.

* * *

"Could you two honestly be anymore disgustingly cute?" Santana complained from the kitchen. "And don't even TRY to make me believe 'Oh, we're not even doing anything!' Because I hear your obnoxious giggling from in here."

Kurt and Blaine's laughter only grew louder, as did the sound of lips crashing upon lips.  
Of hands roaming legs, and arms, and torsos and jawlines.  
Of little gasps and sighs of content and secret whispered promises of tomorrow.

"Should we be even louder?" Blaine asked, his voice dark as he wrapped his lips around Kurt's beautiful jawline.

"If you keep doing things like that, I won't even have to try," Kurt breathed out.

As if Kurt's little moans were the signal, Blaine took the opportunity to pin Kurt down on the couch, earning a loud, surprised yelp from the other boy.

"Oh my GOD, Hummel," Santana shouted again. "Please don't tell me that's what you sound like when you orgasm, because that's humiliating -"

Blaine giggled sweetly into Kurt's ear as he began to slowly unbutton his shirt, all while reattaching his lips to Kurt's beautiful neck.

"Oh, no, Blaine Anderson," Kurt abruptly said. "We've been dating for almost a month. It's time for you to get a taste of your own medicine," Kurt said, a mischievous look in his piercing blue eyes.

Blaine didn't even have time to formulate a response before Kurt's strong arms pushed the smaller boy off on him, and lowered him back down to the other side of the couch. Kurt hovered over Blaine smugly, proud of how easy it was for him to overpower the other boy.

And that's when Kurt involuntarily moaned.

He looked down to see how Blaine's thighs had spread, allowing Kurt's cock to rub up on Blaine's by accident. Blaine was staring into Kurt's eyes, with a question Kurt didn't think he knew the answer to yet.

"Fuck," Kurt hissed.

"Kurt -"

"I-I told you that I didn't think I was ready, and that I wouldn't be ready for a long time-"

"Baby, I know. We've been taking things _super_ slow and I'm totally okay with whatever makes you comfortable -"

Kurt silenced Blaine's sweet ramblings with a hard kiss on the mouth, and with a brief moment of hesitation, Kurt experimentally lowered his body to rub himself on the other boy's cock once more.

It didn't take Kurt long to figure out a push-and-pull pattern that worked for the both of them, and soon, Blaine's hands were tangled in Kurt's hair, pulling Kurt closer to him as they continued to grind in their jeans.

"This feels so good Kurt, I don't wanna stop-"

"Then let's never stop," Kurt breathed out, ironically stopping his movement.

Blaine looked up at him again, the question still looming in his hazel eyes.

"Let's go back to your apartment. I-I mean, I know we've never been there, but your roommate is probably out like he always is, right?," Kurt asked, his body tingling with want.

"Yeah, yeah. That sounds, uh. Let's go," Blaine said, his hands reaching up to brush against Kurt's blushing cheeks.

The taxi ride was excruciating. Kurt and Blaine traded small kisses, squeezing one another's thighs while trying to keep the other boy quiet, as the cab driver tried not to look in the rearview mirror.

Kurt practically squeaked at one point, earning a deep, happy laugh from Blaine, and the most adoring look in Kurt's eyes.

The two boys practically stumbled to the elevator of Blaine's apartment, giggling and excitedly clutching one another. This was when Kurt Hummel was going to rewrite his first sexual encounter - with a boy he lov-,

Kurt's thoughts stopped cold, as he watched beautiful Blaine shakily use his key to unlock the front door.

Blaine, the boy that has a bowtie to match with just about every outfit.  
Blaine, who is also majoring in musical theatre.  
Blaine, who took Kurt to see three Broadway shows this past month.  
Blaine, who when the two boys got caught in the rain, gave Kurt his jacket so his hair wouldn't get messed up.  
Blaine, who has to eat each type of food on a dinner plate one at a time, as Kurt discovered on their first dinner date.

Blaine, who Kurt was pretty sure he was falling in love with.

This was going to be right this time, but Kurt would be lying if he said he wasn't nervous being in the boy's apartment for the first time.

Upon entering, Kurt couldn't help but have this eerily feeling build up in the pit of his stomach. The multicolored painted walls, the wooden floor, the various Broadway and 70's rock music posters that lined the intricate hallway, the general smell-

"Are you okay, darling?" Blaine said, taking Kurt's hand in his, leading him to the maroon colored sofa against the far wall in the living room.

From the couch, Kurt noted the two bedrooms opposite left and right side of the hallway.

"Kurt? Sweetheart? I mean I know it's a little messy, but this was kind of spontaneous -"

"No, no, Blaine, it's fine. It's fine," Kurt breathed, calming himself and trying to clear his head. "I just.. nevermind. There honestly isn't a place I would rather be, or a person that I would rather be here with," Kurt said.

Blaine smiled, wide and beautiful, before gently caressing Kurt's face, inching his lips closer to the other boys.

Within minutes the two boys were kissing feverishly, and very much half-naked.

Blaine beamed at Kurt as he noted the color rising to his nervous face as Blaine gracefully removed Kurt's shirt from over his head, taking in his beautiful torso.

Kurt was, despite his earlier pretenses, being pushed down on the couch again, as Blaine began mouthing every inch of his body. Blaine's lips were trailing from Kurt's nipples, to his stomach, when Blaine began to fumble nervously with the belt on Kurt's jeans.

Kurt kissed Blaine back sloppily as he began to pump him slowly in his hand.

_This was right. This was how it was supposed to be._

"Blaine -" Kurt barely whispered.

"Shhhh," Blaine brought a finger to Kurt's lips. "Let me take care of you."

Blaine's hand picked up speed, and Kurt let out a loud cry, sinking into the pleasure of the moment, causing both boys to not hear the slight sound of the front door becoming ajar.

"Holy shit, Anderson," the voice said as the man stepped fully into the front door, causing Blaine to jump up and Kurt to reach for a pillow to cover his exposed areas.

And that was the moment that changed Kurt's life forever.

That was the moment the scattered puzzle that was his life slightly began to connect, one piece at a time. He just didn't know it, yet.

So for now, his heart just stopped, the blood in his veins running cold.

"Sebastian," Blaine said embarrassingly. "I didn't expect you to be home tonight."

But Sebastian Smythe wasn't looking at his roommate. He was looking directly at the half-naked boy on the couch - the same fully naked boy that was just in his bed two months ago.

The same blue eyes that Sebastian saw roll back with pleasure as he fucked him for the first time.

The same boy who somehow captivated Sebastian's attention on the dance floor back at Royals.

The same boy who had been hurt by his abruptness the following morning.

Kurt Hummel.

Sebastian's best friends' new boyfriend was Kurt Hummel, a guy he had deflowered a few weeks back?

_Fucking great_, Sebastian thought, as he locked eyes with the stunned blue-eyed boy on his couch.

But there wasn't a look of longing there, or one of familiarity.

It was a look Sebastian never had directed at him by another boy in his life.

It was of pure hatred.


End file.
